They Knew
by Romalde
Summary: Established Destiel. Set right before 5x04, with spoilers for the episode. What happened in those last few weeks before The End? Cas's POV.
1. Chapter 1

Cas was guiding the three girls from last night out. It was a good night and he had been polite enough to let them stay over for breakfast – or what would pass for breakfast nowadays – and discuss their terms for any further interaction. Like most times it happened, the girls had decided to let it remain a one-time thing, but saw no need to avoid each other around camp. He snickered about this, as the men usually tended to make it known pretty clearly that they had a preference for any future contact to be avoided.

He gave the last one a goodbye kiss as he saw the camp's fearless leader come up to his cabin, and his mood sank. Dean's face was set in the usual no-time-for-your-bullshit way. It had been ages since he had last seen the man smile. He would never stop trying, though, no matter how bitter it made him.

He reached into his pocket and took two amphetamines. He would need them.

"We need to talk, Cas," Dean said when he was close enough to be heard, but not overheard, and he brushed past Castiel without a second glance. Cas sighed and went in after him.

Cas sat down on the pillows scattered all over his rug while Dean paced back and forth through the living room. Neither said a word – Dean because he didn't know where to begin, and Cas because he knew that the moment he would try, Dean would overrule him anyway.

"I got a lead on the Colt," Dean said and turned to look Cas in the eye. Cas felt an enormous rush of relief, because this meant that it all might soon be over, but the look in Dean's eyes was unsettling.

"Talk," he said, and nudged his head to the pillows in front of him. Dean took the hint and sat down. After a couple of seconds, he turned around and put his head in Cas' lap, staring up at the ceiling. It was awkward and stiff and Cas knew he only did it for two reasons. One, Cas was the only one he trusted enough to do this with and, no matter how hard it got, he needed the physical contact every now and then. Two, it would be easier to say what he had to say if he didn't have to look at Cas. The ex-angel took it for granted and gently patted Dean's short hair.

"Getting the Colt won't be much of a problem. I've got that all sorted out and I've got a team of our best men at the ready to retrieve it," the man started. "Now, I know where Lucifer is hiding and I also know that he's luring us into a trap." Cas nodded his head and hummed to let him know that he was still following. Dean remained silent for a while.

"We have to walk into that trap, Cas," he said, and Cas was about to nod again when it dawned on him what Dean was hinting at.

"You want a decoy team, but you don't want them to be aware that that's what they are. You want to let them believe they lead the attack while you find a way to get to Lucifer. You want them to trust you." He looked down and stared in Dean's hard green eyes. "You want me to go with them."

They remained silent. The entire camp was well aware that the angel shared a remarkable bond with their leader, and that he was as good as second in command. They had seen the two go through everything to save the other. Putting Cas in charge of the decoy would mean no one would suspect they were a decoy at all. It would also inevitably mean that Cas would die there.

Cas jerked up from his train of thoughts when he felt Deans hand on his cheek. He relaxed into the touch without realizing it, but he saw Dean's face contort something strange. He almost smiled. After five years of war, it was awkward to say the least to see compassion on the other man's face.

"Are you okay?" the hunter asked, voice as soft at it had once been before Sam was lost in Detroit. It wasn't asking whether Cas was okay with the plan though. It would go without saying that Cas would do it, as he had always followed Dean in everything. It was asking whether he was okay with everything else. With how it would end for him, with how his life had been so far and how it had turned out to be less than impressive at the end.

"Do you have any chance of surviving this?" Cas asked, looking down at the man that changed everything.

"I think so. Odds are you'll be a dead man soon though," Dean answered. Even though the softness was still in his face, his eyes had turned hard for a second again. Cas knew it was merely a wall he pulled up that allowed him to be light about everything.

"Yes," Cas merely said, accepting it as fact.

"Well, last days on earth then. Any plans?" Dean asked teasingly, glad that Castiel appeared to be fine with his proposed course of action.

"I just thought I'd sit here quietly," Cas teased back with a crooked grin and to his surprise, he saw the corner of Dean's mouth twitch. They had had this conversation before. The last time, it had led to Cas being dragged to what he had then referred to as a 'den of inequity'. And he had scared the living daylights out of a hooker.

"Well," Dean muttered, his lips still in that half-smile, "at least I know for sure you won't die a virgin this time 'round."

Cas smiled, bent forward and gently placed a kiss on Deans forehead. Dean closed his eyes, and they both knew. They both knew that their life had been great, that they had made a difference. The world may have gone to hell for it, but it wasn't for their lack of trying. They had done all they could, and soon, it would be over.

They both knew that they wouldn't do anything different if presented with the same choices again. Dean wouldn't hesitate to accept Cas into his life again, nor would Cas think twice about the consequences if it meant being with Dean, his righteous man.

They reminisced in the life they had shared, a life that for both of them only seemed to matter from the moment the other entered it. They had been friends, enemies, lovers, fuck-buddies, but in the end, they always chose each other, because they knew that's where they would be safest.

They had seen each other at their worst. Cas had pulled Dean out of hell and remade his being from point zero, had seen all the flaws and virtues and _goodness_ that was Dean and had loved him from that point on. Dean had seen Cas the angel, Cas the god, Cas the leviathan and madman and had seen him recover from all of it only to turn out so incredibly human and Dean had known there would be no way he could live on without him.

Cas's love and Dean's acceptance, it was all in that one small kiss.

Then Dean opened his eyes, hard once more, got up and left the cabin without saying anything, to shout orders at the people walking outside.

Cas popped open his bottle of pills and swallowed another one. It was most likely that his imminent death was for the better. Dean wouldn't be the same after icing Lucifer; after all, Sam was still in there somewhere as well. And Cas would never say it out loud, but he was scared of Dean coming back changed, and never feeling whole again for the rest of his life.  
Yes. His death was definitely for the better.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Had a few requests to continue this story, so I'm going to try and see where it's heading. For now, have a nice short chapter._

Weeks passed and the summer reached a belated peak. The camp went about in its usual hustle, gaining new members to the community not quite as fast as they were losing them. Whenever a new wandering soul found their camp, usually looking as if they had lost their grip on the world, Dean would look them over and either give approval or shoot them on the spot if they showed signs of the virus. Once approved, they were assigned a cabin, and sooner or later they would all show up on Castiels doorstep.

The more experienced warriors went out on missions whenever a group of croats would get too close. Groups of fifteen to twenty people, that would come back as groups of thirteen to eighteen. Others stayed behind, teaching newcomers the ropes. When someone turned out not to be fit for battle whatsoever, they joined Chuck in organizing the logistics.

Castiel was usually with the people teaching the newcomers. He knew his way around all weapons available in camp and Dean trusted him to do a good job of it. Evenings were spent in decadence, if he didn't have a patrol shift.

It was a rare night, where no one had shown up for the evening, not even Dean, and for a change they had so many people in the camp that he didn't have to run a shift either. Castiel had retreated to an abandoned playground, just behind the main building, and was gently swinging back and forth on a creaky swing set, arms wrapped around the chains.

His eyes were fixed on the cloudless night sky, littered with stars. Carefully, he reached out with his mind to where he once would have found his link to Heaven, only to be met with deafening silence. He was overcome with the need to cry for his lost brothers and sisters, but found he didn't have any tears left in him. He closed his eyes.

"Father," he started, his voice soft and rough from substance abuse, "I don't know if you can hear me, or if you want to, or if you're even still there." The swing stopped creaking as Cas planted his feed on the ground. "I have to ask, though. Are we doing good? Are we doing what you intended us to do?"

The only answer was the soft chirping of cicadas nearby.

"What will happen when this last resistance dies? Will we be welcomed in Heaven? Is there a Heaven to be welcomed into?"

How bitter it was not to know the answer. To not know whether there still was a Heaven or Hell. To not be aware of things he was once so certain of.

"Please, Father, I'm not even interested for myself. I just… I want to know that Dean will be safe. He has given so very much…"

He clenched his hands, not remembering when they had come together in prayer.

"It would be unfair to him if… I would like… I just want his suffering to end, Father. He has done everything you ever asked of him, and so much more. He has bled for this world until he had nothing more to give and continued even then. You left him to fend for himself and instead, he has been fending for the entirety of mankind. He has only ever had everyone else's best interest at heart, not even thinking twice if it would hurt him in the process. He has lost… _everything_, and I… I can't save him anymore."

Castiels throat constricted and he found himself unable to go on. Consciously, he unclenched his hands and got up from the swing. He glanced up at the starry night sky once more before he quietly walked away, his feet crunching on the gravel. He was going to look for Dean. The hunter might not need the physical comfort tonight, but Castiel sure as hell did.


End file.
